


Gallery

by wreathed



Category: British Comedy RPF, Just Puddings (Web Series), Off Menu with Ed Gamble and James Acaster (Podcast)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Drug Use, Established Relationship, Foreplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Nobody comes, Restaurants, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 16:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20855132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreathed/pseuds/wreathed
Summary: “I’ll go and see if he’s… all right,” Ed says to the group at large, climbing ungainly out of his squishy pink chair, knocking the handle of his knife that’s sitting on top of his finished main course as he goes. A few people around their table, if he’s not mistaken, exchange pointed looks.





	Gallery

“I’ll go and see if he’s… all right,” Ed says to the group at large, climbing ungainly out of his squishy pink chair, knocking the handle of his knife that’s sitting on top of his finished main course as he goes. A few people around their table, if he’s not mistaken, exchange pointed looks.

James had excused himself from the table with an uncharacteristic little giggle ten minutes ago, and Ed was now distantly concerned enough to want to go and check on him. He forgets where he’s going for a few moments because he gets distracted by the really cool way a table lamp is shining on the gold panelling behind the bar.

_How did they get here?_ Ed wonders as he remembers where he’s meant to be going – the toilets – and sets off again. Well, how he and James had got to London Hughes’s ‘Fuck you all, I’m moving to LA’ leaving party was pretty straightforward: they’d got the tube in, then walked. Back at Ed’s flat, they had already been running late when Ed had decided to give James and his corduroy suit the sort of appreciative once-over that tends to make James want to scrunch up his face a lot. Then Ed had gone in for a properly unsuave snog that had made his mouth feel all loose and warm and distracted afterwards. And that had been before the…

“By the way,” Ed had said seriously, once he’d finally left James’s mouth alone for the moment. “Lou left behind a couple of the funny brownies she had with her last night.”

“Are you kidding?” James had replied, looking over his shoulder and out the window as if he had expected to see flashing blue lights waiting for him. “Oh my God, I’m going to get arrested.”

“I’ll have one if you do. Liven up the evening? One’ll just make you a bit giggly; no-one will notice. Plus,” Ed had added, widening his eyes conspiratorially. “We’ll have made the evidence disappear.” 

“We _like_ these people, Ed,” James had glared, but he had already started peering through to the kitchen. James loved brownies. “We’re not looking to liven it up unduly.”

“Still. Could be even livelier,” Ed had said, and had squeezed James’s bony waist momentarily before going through to the kitchen to fetch them. God, James looked good when he felt like he wasn’t supposed to be doing what he was doing.

*

When Ed gets up the stairs, he sees James straight away. He’s looking at himself absent-mindedly in a mirror over a sink. There’s another man hurriedly washing his hands on the other side of the room, and two women talking animatedly to each other in a corner.

“Are you okay?” he says to James gently, who jumps and turns to look at Ed directly. James looks pleased to see him, which makes Ed’s insides squirm in a pleasant way he finds he hasn’t yet tired of.

“Yeah,” James says, and he does seem happy enough. “Let’s talk for a minute? Somewhere private?”

That’s how Ed ends up sneaking into one of the weird oval-shaped space-age pod stalls with him, leaving the quiet chatter and the distractingly multi-coloured ceiling behind. They’ve started laughing at each other for no particular reason.

Once they’ve crammed themselves safely inside and he’s that close to James’s happy, flushed face, Ed realises this is a terrible idea. It’s just the drug hitting, right? Not anything else? Why he wants to touch James everywhere all of a sudden, feel the rough-soft texture of his clothes, fondle his pale neck and his skinny thighs and his—

“Are _you_ all right?” James frowns at Ed, which makes a change, and Ed grins and grabs most of James’s arse in one hand, holding James’s body up with his other arm, and kisses him slowly.

“There's nothing to you,” he tells James in an awed whisper against his jawbone, then goes back to his mouth for a moment for a bite of his lower lip. “You're really hot.”

“Are you kidding me,” James murmurs, voice not sounding like a question. His hands reach forward and splay across the muscle at the top of Ed's legs. “I'm just... You're...”

"What?" Ed asks, grinning widely, watching James blush. 

“Nothing,” James says, annoyed, but he carries on pawing at Ed's thighs all the same. Ed finds that he likes it.

“Feels… good,” James says distantly, running his hands over the front of Ed’s trousers until his touch is pressing against the bulge in them. It feels so good, James’s hands, but Ed can still hear the sounds of shoes and water and conversation from outside.

It hadn’t been Ed’s plan, if James had been game, for _Ed_ to be the one who gets into a bad enough state that he can’t leave, but James tended to have that effect on him.

Ed makes a guttural grunt as he works up the energy and wherewithal to push James up against the shiny curved wall of the stall, laughs breathily at the way his legs flail a bit in surprise, and goes for his flies. James looks like he wants to melt into the wall, possibly to disappear.

“Jesus,” Ed says in James’s ear, very quietly. He gets James’s trousers undone and feels his cock through his underwear: hard, and wet. “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this. You must really need it.”

“Ed,” James says weakly, barely audible, spreading his arms wide against the wall like he wants something to hold onto, canting up his hips as Ed presses the heel of his hand hard against James’s crotch. When he actually gets his hand around James’s cock properly, he gets one steadying hand on James’s hip and looks at James’s face properly. His eyes are tightly shut and his mouth is open. The heat from him, held in Ed’s palm, is incredible.

“James. What do you want me to do?” Ed asks. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No! I mean: no overall, but maybe for now, because—”

“Because what,” Ed says, unrelenting, gripping his hand around James’s cock again and pulling him off tightly. That makes James’s eyelashes flutter and the ball of his left foot twist around on the floor. He makes a breathy sound, like he wishes he could cry out more loudly, and Ed feels the frustrated throb of his own dick in reaction to it.

“Because if you don’t stop now I am going to come in the egg toilet,” James gasps, urgently and a little too loudly. Ed can’t help himself from starting to giggle quite hysterically.

“Keep your voice down, mate,” he wheezes between his hysterics. “You’ve got quite a distinctive voice.” James’s face goes even redder than it already had been, and Ed is madly keen to find out exactly what percentage James hates this and what percentage he loves it. He might ask James to draw up a pie chart.

James looks down at his own cock, which, newly-ignored, is now twitching against his opened boxers.

“You’re going to come,” Ed giggles nonsensically. “And then you’re going to impregnate the egg. Impregnate the egg!”

“Shut up!” James says, halfway meeting his eyes, but smiling all the same. It doesn’t look like his erection has flagged one bit. “Let’s crack out of this crazy egg, shall we?”

“Oh my God,” Ed says, looking at James and breaking back yet more hysterical laughter. “I can’t send you back out there looking like that.”

“What? Why?”

“You look… good,” Ed says, thoughts drifting off, the laughter leaving him. James’s lips look pink and bright and unmistakingly bitten-on. His shirt collar is messed up, and it only gets worse further down from there.

“Do we have to go back? Or can we just slip out and go?”

“Not even finish our meal? Leaving would be very rude,” Ed says, exaggerating an appalled tone just to get James glaring at him again. It works. “Not take you back to all of those people? Worrying they’ll be able to work it out? We’ve both been gone a while.” James’s eyes flutter closed and he hums a mortified sound, and Ed gets a slightly better sense of that pie chart.

“Tell you what,” Ed says kindly, as he tucks his own insistent hard-on into his waistband, then does up James’s trousers, leaving his shirt untucked. “We’ll get you straightened out, and then we’ll get that strawberry tart I know you’ve had your eye on, and after you’ve eaten that we’ll make our excuses and head off back to mine. Okay?”

“Last time you did this,” James grumbles, still looking half-dazed. “You made us have two whiskies each after dinner and wait so we weren’t the first ones to leave _just to wind me up_.”

“You think the waiting isn’t hard for me?” Ed says against James’s cheek, just to feel the shiver of his skin one more time. “I promise,” he says, feeling the golden glow of his tone wash over them pleasantly, “that if you finish that dessert for me we’ll leave straight away.”

He looks James up and down one more time. He still looks pretty jumped-on, but, feeling enjoyably reckless, Ed doesn’t want to tidy him any more than he already has. So he doesn’t.

“Now; dignified exit,” Ed says, hand on the door of the stall.

They don’t quite manage it.

**Author's Note:**

> You too can crack into/out of the [egg toilets](http://www.bookatable.co.uk/blog/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2015/01/sketch-gallery-samphireandsalsify.jpg) at [Sketch](https://media.timeout.com/images/102046415/630/472/image.jpg0).


End file.
